"What is the Noxumbria Dagger?" Simara's voice came out with difficulty, but she forced herself to be brave and speak loudly and clearly. "I'm sure you're just as stuck in this game as I am, and you know that name."

The arrow in the man's bow trembled again, and his voice came out strong and aggressive. "If you know I'm just as screwed as you, you know I have to kill you."

Simara shook her head. "I already know that we both have to kill each other. That's not what I'm asking," Simara's gaze went from the man's iron mask to the arrow. "I'm asking you what the Noxumbria Dagger is..."

The masked man's head turned slightly to one side, not understanding what she was doing. His voice sounded aggressive again. "All I know is that it's also called 'The Tear of the Shadows,' the devil told me that. I don't know anything more than that, and that I have to kill you..."

Simara felt a chill run down her spine. The man spoke again, almost on the edge of his nerves. Then Simara realized it: the man was completely anguished.

"I got into this without having the slightest idea," the man said. "And now I have to do this. Either you or me, there's nothing more. Otherwise, it will be the same thing over and over again. Everything will restart until we kill each other..."

Simara's mind reacted quickly. "What if it's not the only way? What if... we could get the Noxumbria Dagger together and form a team? We could... play together."

"Are you kidding me?" the man exploded, his voice congested. "Do you know who we made a pact with? I made a pact with the devil himself to play this sick game in exchange for power... and now my life is just this. Death and destruction. There's no way to escape!"

"I think there is a way!" Simara hardened her voice. "There must be a way to not have to kill anyone and still win... together."

The man laughed bitterly from behind his mask.

"Who the hell are you? Do you have any idea what you're doing? Do you have any damned idea where you've gotten yourself into?"

"My name is Simara Novak, I'm from the Snowy Valley, and I'm nineteen years old. And no, I don't know where I've gotten myself into, but I think it can be resolved."

The man shifted uncomfortably in place. Simara saw his weakness.

"Tell me your name, please. Who do you live with? Who's behind the mask?" Simara tried to soften her voice. "I live with my two sisters, and I recently lost my mother. I like painting roses with oil, I also like weaving wool to make clothes, I make a living from that. I like sleeping curled up next to my cat Viko, and I like eating walnut cake..."

The man shook his head violently, denying. "No! Don't tell me anything! I'm not interested!"

"I don't think he's not interested," Viko said from behind.

"I'm interested in who you are," Simara replied to the man. "And I don't want to kill you. I have two sisters waiting for me at home, but I don't want to kill you..."

Simara saw that the man was doubting even more, shifting in place, and making his arrow tremble in the bow. The man didn't know what to do, but Simara did. She approached him, detaching herself from Viko's body and advancing very slowly towards the man. Her heart was pounding, and her body was trembling with anticipation, but she had to try. It was her only card to play, to deceive him enough so that he wouldn't attack her, and, with luck, that he would tell her more about that strange dagger.

"Let's work together and not do what the devil wants... let's find a way..."

The man seemed about to explode, shifting in place as she approached him. Simara even raised her hand, stained with red, for him to shake it, and it even seemed like the man was staring fixedly at her outstretched hand. Simara could even see the man's eyes through the slits in the mask, and they were completely bloodshot.

"There must be another way out..."

She got even closer, and Simara even managed to grab the wooden shaft of the arrow. She grasped it so that it wouldn't slide straight into her chest. Simara looked directly into the man's eyes. They were gray and fearful, his gaze was unfathomable, and it seemed like he was looking at her as if she were farther away, with his eyes completely open. Then, Simara realized that those eyes had seen many things and were tired because they knew what was coming. Maybe he had done it thousands of times...

Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.

When Simara was holding the arrow's wooden shaft with her left hand and extending her right hand to seal a "truce" with the masked man, something lit up beside her. Just when she felt like she was about to accomplish her goal and carry out her plan, something caught the man's attention and Simara's as well. It was something distant, but its presence was almost palpable, even from afar. Unlike the man, who abruptly turned his head, snapping out of his trance, Simara slowly turned hers, and her eyes made out an object, very far away. It was a weapon, a kind of knife from which a powerful yellow light emanated, whose rays could almost be seen, and which levitated above a mountain of crystal with straight faces that reflected the knife's light and cast blinding rays. Simara was blinded.

"The Dagger!" the man whispered to himself and took advantage of Simara being blinded to throw the bow and arrow to one side and push her to the side. Again, she fell onto the glass floor, making a pained inhalation as she cut herself.

As Simara lay sprawled on the floor, the masked man took off running at full speed towards the mountain on which the dagger floated.

"Simara!" Viko shouted, who had reached her with difficulty and was insistently licking her head. "Simara! We have to go after him! We have to go!"

Simara only felt the deep pain of the cuts that almost paralyzed her, but Viko's urgent mental voice brought her back to reality. She had to stop him. She had to win. She had to get up now.

Her body began to tremble again, charging itself with contained, furious energy. She shifted, feeling the crystal's edges unearth themselves from her skin's surface. Simara opened her eyes and looked with cold determination at the man running away, and she knew she was going to stop him. She slowly got up, with great difficulty, looking at the man all the time while feeling the warm liquid on her skin, ignoring the pain.

When she was standing, she clung to the giant cat's fur.

"Viko, we have to do it!"

The cat just stared at her with his big, green eyes, baring his teeth. Simara grasped the arrow stuck in Viko's chest and quickly pulled it out of his flesh, while the cat growled. It was immediate; both of them knew what to do. Simara clung to his fur, propelling herself, and Viko pulled her until Simara sat on his back, and then he took off running as fast as lightning. Viko ran as if he hadn't been wounded by an arrow and as if his paws hadn't been cut by the crystal floor because they had to win. Both of them had to win. In Simara's and Viko's heads, only one phrase echoed.

“I'm going to win.”

They passed the man, and when they reached the crystal mountain, Viko took a huge leap to a considerable height on the mountain, staining the cold crystal red and clinging to it with his sharp claws. The crystal let out a horrible screech under his enormous paws, and in a moment of suspension, Simara took advantage of the opportunity to stretch out and cling to the crystal mountain with her hands, digging her nails into its straight faces. The pain was horrible, not just from the sharp crystal against her skin but also the pain of all her muscles forcing themselves to hold all her body weight, her fingers clinging firmly to keep herself from falling while Viko dragged himself, painfully, down the mountain. She screamed from the effort, but she managed to climb the crystal with great difficulty, little by little and step by step until she got closer and closer to the dagger. Simara could see it... It was a black dagger, as black as onyx, and its handle was pointed. It shone with a bright light like the sun's, calling her to take it with her hands. Close, yet far away. Simara stretched out a hand, but she still couldn't reach it. She felt so much pain; every muscle screamed for her to stop, but Simara kept climbing anyway. She thought about giving up, stopping her climb, and letting go of the crystal completely, sliding down and letting the crystal cut her or the masked man kill her, but she quickly decided to abandon that possibility because it wasn't just her who was at stake; Viko was also there, who had decided to follow her. She also had to win for him, her friend, so that they could return home alive and together.

She looked down, with her face stuck to the crystal, and saw that Viko was keeping the man at bay, who was trying to get closer to the mountain, by growling, biting, and scratching. The man, sometimes, would get on top of him and try to fight him; in fact, the man had blood on his arms thanks to Viko's claws. Simara looked up again and saw that the devil's head appeared near the dagger, as well as an hourglass that was about to restart, floating next to him.

"Time, Simara. You're running out of time, and when that happens, you'll go back to the beginning."

Simara made an even greater effort, using more force with her muscles until she was a short distance away from the dagger. Almost within reach... It was then that she started to feel the amethyst pendant on her clothes pulsating. It was there, beating like a heart, while a voice grew like an echo around her.

"Come on, Simara... Do it, Simara" was Nubia's voice. She also felt her presence on her skin, which was dressed in the clothes that Nubia herself had woven for her, when a sudden energy flooded Simara's body, propelling her upward with force.

It was then that she did it. Simara succeeded.

She reached the dagger's handle, which seemed to be made of ice, and grasped it with such force that she could have broken her knuckles. She held it with such force that her entire body relaxed, but she didn't fall, not even sliding a little down the mountain, because something was holding her up. Simara felt herself faint while a cold halo enveloped her, and the cold felt good on her wounds.

She felt good, but she felt even better knowing that she had succeeded, she had the Noxumbria Dagger.

She closed her eyes while listening to Viko and the man fell silent. She closed her eyes while the icy halo enveloped her and she stopped feeling the crystal mountain against her body. She let herself fall backward, letting go because the important thing was that the dagger was in her hand.

It had to end. She had succeeded, she had completed the mission, so why was she still there, floating? Why didn't she and Viko return home?